


Creature Comfort

by Wally_1931



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Communication, Established Relationship, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Mention of dysphoria, One Shot, Other, Probably ooc, Rated T for swearing, Temporary Amnesia, They/Them Pronouns for Kozume Kenma, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kuroo being soft for kenma, they're working on it, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wally_1931/pseuds/Wally_1931
Summary: “Do you remember your own name?”Kuroo swallows. “Without thinking too much-” his voice is low as he watches Kenma watch him. “I know my name, that I’m in the hospital, and that you're very pretty, Kozume Kenma.”After waking up dazed and disoriented in a hospital bed, Kuroo's only source of comfort is the cute blonde he finds nestled in the corner of his room.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 188





	Creature Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was apart of a prompt-fill challenge my friend and I did! The prompt she gave me was:
> 
> _'Person A wakes up after surgery to see person B. Not realizing they're already dating they're in awe of how beautiful the other person is. They are surprised when they're told that they're already together.'_
> 
> The second hers is posted, I will link her beautiful fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521011). (It's a super adorable KageHina fic!!)
> 
> This fic is basically just me projecting, as well as gushing over Kenma. This is the first time I've written a character using they/them pronouns, so if I've portrayed anything inaccurately please don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> I hope you enjoy ~

The world’s pretty quiet when it's dark, Kuroo notices. All his senses are dull, and he's aware that there's a lack of images behind his eyelids. There isn’t much to think about here. Other than an awareness of how vaguely empty everything feels, he has little else to focus on besides the darkness.

He flexes his fingers tentatively, and the world seems to burst back to life.

First, sounds flood to him. They're muffled and fuzzy much like his head, and seemingly far away. There's a faint beeping sound underlying a series of muffled far-away voices. It's impossible to pinpoint any of them, and it makes Kuroo's head hurt when he tries.

He breathes a long sigh, testing his eyelids as he exhales. Everything is entirely too bright for a moment, forcing his features into what he's sure is a grimace. There are a series of fluorescent lights overhead, Kuroo has to divert his attention away from them until his vision clears. Eventually, the haze dissipates. Allowing him to cast his gaze over the small room he'd woken up in.

The walls are plain aside from a whiteboard, sporting various hasty scrawls in black marker. None of the symbols on the board make any sense so Kuroo opts to skim past them. To his right is an open entrance to a hallway. People dressed in pale blue dash past the opening in a blurry mass, none of them stopping to check inside Kuroo's room. Even closer to his right side is a convoluted jumble of cords and wires, feeding into a machine with an outdated neon green display. It beeps at a steady pace. Kuroo blinks, _that's one mystery solved._

So he's in a hospital of some kind. For what, he isn't sure.

Someone mumbles something to his left. The sound is so soft it's almost imperceptible, but Kuroo casts his gaze in the direction of the sound. He has to crane his neck upwards in order to find its source.

_Oh._

Curled up on a chair in the far left corner of the room, a tight bundle of limbs is sat bracketed behind a small handheld device. Kuroo swears he's seen the small black box before but _can't_ for the life of him recall what it's called. _(A ‘tablet’? No… that's way too broad. Maybe a ‘Gameboy’?)_

Their hoodie is entirely too big for them, swallowing their tiny frame whole and making their appearance soft in comparison to the harsh blank walls and blinding lights. One leg rests underneath them, propping them up slightly on the thick plastic. The other is bent at the knee and angled so just the barest length of heel is perched on the edge of the chair. Bleach blond hair falls in a centre part either side of their face, which is entirely blocked from view by the device. _(Is it a ‘DS'?)_ Their attention seems focused wholly on the screen in front of them, clutched expertly between slender fingers. 

Another low mumble from behind the screen. The corner of Kuroo's mouth twitches – they appear to be grumbling to themselves.

They shift on the armchair. Formerly focused eyes flick up and over the top of the screen to meet Kuroo's. Widening slightly, their eyes are the colour of molten Aztec gold – so incredibly sharp and intelligent that Kuroo feels as though they're peering into his soul. Their impact is unmarred by their owner's visible shock: no doubt taken aback to find Kuroo’s own gaze staring at back them so intently. In all his dazed, bleary-eyed glory.

Kuroo isn't entirely sure where he is, nor why this person is here. But some inexplicable part of his muddled brain tells him that he's exactly where he needs to be. There's something about this person that stabilizes him – the only vaguely familiar thing in this otherwise foreign and confusing room. Especially those eyes.

 _It's a ‘PSP’._ Kuroo's mind sounds with triumph. He knew he'd get there eventually.

“Oh,” The PSP lowers slightly. “You're awake.”

If Kuroo had known what to say to that, it wouldn't have mattered. The PSP lowers further, tentatively revealing the few remaining inches of the familiar stranger's face. Kuroo's breath hitches: continuing to stare unabashedly, and taking in all the minute expressions that cross the newly revealed features. Upon first glance, the stranger's expression is flat: golden eyes bracketed by droopy eyelids and sullen bags that _really_ shouldn’t be as appealing as they are. Their mouth is a thin line, residing above a pointed chin and rounded jaw. The lower half of their face is small, including perhaps the _cutest_ button nose Kuroo has ever seen. But it’s impossible to not be drawn to those _eyes_ – so calculating and intriguing yet carefully veiled with boredom.

Neither of them speaks again for a moment – Kuroo too enamoured formulate a sentence. He isn’t even sure how much time has passed since the familiar stranger first spoke. It could have been hours. But then, it couldn’t have been too long, because the stranger has been holding his gaze all this time.

As if on queue, the stranger shifts. The eye contact must have gotten to them, because they divert their gaze to the neon green screen with all the wires. Distantly, Kuroo registers that it’s beeping slightly faster than before.

From this angle, Kuroo can see the fullness of their cheeks, and the slight upward twitch of their lips - a dimple coming and going along with the movement. An indescribable feeling blooms in Kuroo's chest at the sight.

Still averting their gaze, the stranger clears their throat. “Do you need any-"

_“You're beautiful.”_

Kuroo almost doesn't register the breathless admission as his own. It was so raw and almost unheard beneath the stranger’s intone – murmured mindlessly on an exhale and accompanied by a small smile that Kuroo hopes is endearing. There's no doubt that the stranger heard it – if their sudden pause and the widening of their eyes was anything to go by. Their mouth forms a cute ‘o' shape briefly, before slightly recovering as they shut their mouth with a swallow. Tracksuit fabric swishes against the seat as they shift in place slightly, diverting their attention to their right. Kuroo is elated when he spies a hearty dusting of red high on their cheekbones.

Better still, they burrow deeper into their oversized hoodie, burying their nose and chin into the high collar.

“Idiot,” they murmur into the fabric. Kuroo finds himself smiling wider, somehow knowing the insult lacks the proper bite to take offence.

There's a pause before Kuroo tilts his head. “Where am I?”

The question forces golden eyes back to him, and Kuroo doesn’t know what to do with the flicker of panic he finds in them.

“The hospital,” the stranger shifts on the chair again. Kuroo nods slightly at the affirmation, the movement making his head spin. “You'll be in overnight for observation, so your parents went home a few hours ago.”

 _Right, yes. Parents._ He remembers them, knows he can recall their faces if he tries hard enough. But everything else about the situation grows fuzzy – he can feel his mind trying to buzz with questions, but a fog over his brain stops anything from sticking.

His confusion must be showing on his face, because the stranger speaks up again without prompt.

“You only had your appendix removed,” they clarify, their voice a calming monotone. “But you had a severe reaction to the first anaesthesia, so they had to transfer you to a stronger alternative after they got the infection under control.”

There’s a lot of words Kuroo can't quite hold onto yet. Not while he was busy staring at the stranger's mouth.

“We should… call a nurse.”

They begin to move toward the bed, slinking off the chair and approaching the jumble of wires like a steadfast alley cat. It's then that Kuroo notices a small green button to his right. Before he can think, he catches the stranger's hand just before they press it.

“Wait,” the words are tumbling out of his mouth. “I know you. I _know_ I know you but I-…” The stranger's eyes widen, though be it at the sudden contact or the admission Kuroo doesn't know. He doesn't _know._ He doesn’t know why he can’t place the origin of those familiar eyes. He doesn’t know why he can read between the lines of their nuanced expressions with such ease. He doesn’t know why, for a supposed ‘stranger’, holding their hand feels so inexplicably like home.

Kuroo sighs, finally deciding that he’s sick of referring to them as _‘the stranger’_ in his head. “What's your name..?”

Quiet disappointment pools in their gaze, but they don’t drop Kuroo's hand. Their eyes cast downward as they speak.

“Kenma,” they say softly, reaching forward with their other hand to gently press the call button. “My… my name is Kozume Kenma.”

 _Kozume Kenma._ Kuroo swipes his thumb over their pale knuckles absentmindedly, oblivious to the hitch in their breathing amidst his own awe at the new information.

“Do you remember your own name?” If Kenma weren't so close, Kuroo wouldn't have heard. He considers the question for a moment, before nodding. When he looks back he finds golden eyes studying him.

Kuroo swallows. “Without thinking too much-” his voice is low as he watches Kenma watch him. “I know my name, that I’m in the hospital, and that you're very pretty, Kozume Kenma.”

 _That_ grants Kuroo the biggest reaction yet: Kenma's eyes morph to the size of saucers and their jaw drops slightly. All accompanied by a soft little _noise_ that has Kuroo's chest seizing. Kenma appears to buffer for a few moments, face reddening as they gape at Kuroo like a fish. Once they recover, Kuroo watches as they once again turn their eyes elsewhere, mumbling something under their breath.

There's a patch of silence after that. Amidst his daze, Kuroo begins to wonder if he'd overstepped. What if his gut was wrong? What if he's never actually met this person before? _Fuck... what if Kenma's my sibling??_

“I guess that’s a good thing,” Kenma mumbles, cutting through the mass of Kuroo's thoughts. When they look back up at Kuroo their eyes dance with _bemusement_ , knocking the wind out of Kuroo's chest along with their final uttered words: “Considering we're dating.”

_Oh, thank fuck._

Kuroo must have said as much out aloud because Kenma releases a surprised chuckle. Giving Kuroo a front-row seat to an unabashed upturn of their lips. Kuroo knows he's probably high as a kite right now, but he can’t stop his chest swelling with a warm fondness. The words _‘they're so beautiful’_ , that had been playing like a broken record in his mind since he first laid eyes on Kenma, is now accompanied by a chorus of _‘I’m freaking dating them'_.

“Really?” Kuroo allows a cheesy smile to stretch across his lips, dragging his eyes over the still-blushing form before him. “Lucky me.”

Kenma rolls their eyes at that, making to reply just before a nurse flounces into the room. The blonde drops Kuroo's hand in favour of returning to the seat in the corner, burrowing into their oversized hoodie. Kuroo pouts involuntarily at the loss of contact.

The nurse is patient yet efficient – not at all put-off by Kuroo's dazed demeanour. She asks him a series of questions that whiz by the raven-haired boy in an instant. Fatigue is starting to settle in his bones as the surgery catches up with him. He vaguely remembers telling her he prefers apple juice to orange before an idea enters his mind.

“Hey,” his voice is slurred. The nurse’s hand pauses over the clipboard she had been scribbling on, and Kuroo takes it as a green light to proceed.

“Have you met Kenma?” Kuroo lifts an arm weakly to gesture to the corner of the room. The blonde's attention flickers briefly from the PSP to Kuroo – the slight acknowledgement enough to leave Kuroo beaming. “We're dating... isn't that cool?”

The nurse chuckles good-naturedly. “Try to get some rest, Kuroo. Kozume is welcome to stay until visiting hours close.”

She leaves the room just as quickly as she had appeared, another nurse delivering his dinner with a smile. Kenma remains for as long as they're permitted – a calming presence in the corner of the room. Before Kuroo knows it, the world outside the hospital has darkened. Keeping his eyes open is a near-impossible feat, but he manages to as Kenma says goodbye. Kuroo wholeheartedly believes he would tackle the impossible a million times over just to see Kenma's faint smile, lingering on their lips as Kuroo cups their face and asks for the millionth time if they’re _‘sure we're really dating'_?

Fatigue finally catches up with Kuroo for good once Kenma is gone. As if the blond had taken all his energy with them as they left. The raven-haired boy slips into a dreamless slumber. Save, perhaps, for the vivid inclusion of Aztec eyes.

♤♡◇♧

Kuroo likes the way his hoodies look on Kenma: soft, and entirely too big. Seeming to engulf their slight form, making it so the blond can essentially burrow into the fabric like a security blanket. He loves knowing they're comfortable - loves being the one to provide that comfort for them even more.

He knows how it feels now, to be confused and disoriented in an unfamiliar environment. When he'd woken up in a hospital remembering little else other than his name, Kenma had been a beacon. (Granted, a very short, softly spoken beacon but a source of comfort nonetheless.) The clarity Kuroo felt just from those golden eyes alone was enough to chase away the panic in his dazed and vulnerable state.

It's made Kuroo aware of the ways they’ve accommodated for one another over the years. From growing up together to playing volleyball together, dating seemed like the next logical step. While awkward at first, they'd gradually worked through improving Kuroo's communication skills, all the way to working through Kenma's dysphoria. They have a ways to go, but Kuroo is content with that so long as Kenma is by his side.

He smiles against Kenma's lips.

Kuroo, having been house-bound since he came back from the hospital, revels in the small comforts of having Kenma in his arms. Bundled in a borrowed hoodie, the blonde is seated in Kuroo's lap as an Adventure Time rerun rolls forgotten on the background. This is as far as they'll go, Kuroo knows. It’s just another example of how they’ve accommodated for one another: Kuroo keeps things PG, and Kenma tolerates the occasional make-out session.

The raven-haired boy sighs as they part, Kenma shifting on his lap to face the TV again. Kuroo’s arms circle their tiny waist, occupying himself by burrowing his face into the side of their neck. He’s met with no protest when he begins to trail tiny chaste kisses down its length to the pale base, down to where it meets Kenma's collarbone.

“Did you mean it?”

Kenma's voice reverberates against Kuroo's chest. It's as small as ever – almost as if Kenma hadn't intended for Kuroo to hear. The latter stills, his face still buried between Kenma's neck and shoulder.

“Hm?” The raven-haired boy suppresses a chuckle at the way Kenma shivers. He wonders idly if they’re blushing as they keep their eyes decidedly pointed at the TV.

A beat of silence before they swallow audibly. “Never mind.”

That makes Kuroo's head snap up immediately. He finds an odd expression on Kenma's profile, cheeks reddened with an undertone of embarrassment. Their eyes are haphazardly focused now, but still looking anywhere else but at Kuroo. Their lips twitch. “It's stupid.”

So they’re embarrassed by something. Kenma's immediate dismissal usually means the subject is something they've been thinking about for a while. It's likely that the blonde has already overthought all they can think of by now, turning concepts over in their incredible brain to the point where it no longer resembles its original form. The only way to combat this now is for Kenma to talk it out until it makes sense again.

Kuroo nudges Kenma's temple with the tip of his nose gently.

When he pulls back, it’s only slightly, when Kenma turns to face him finally their noses are inches apart. Kuroo’s gut twists at Kenma's expression. He's always been drawn to those _eyes_ , but up this close, he can see the uncertainty and _fear_ that resides there. Fuelling his resolve help Kenma talk it out.

He simmers his features into what he hopes is an encouraging expression. Tilting his head slightly while holding Kenma's gaze, urging the other with his eyes to continue. _Talk to me._

Kenma sighs, Kuroo feels them run their fingers over his own at their waist.

“At the hospital, when you woke up you...” They hesitate, Kuroo takes their hand. He feels Kenma relax against him as they take a steadying breath. “You... called me... _things._ ”

Kuroo freezes, _what did I call them??_ If he's honest, that entire experience after waking up at the hospital is a blur – he’d spoken to Kenma for sure. But whatever bullshit he'd sprouted to make them look like that was vacant from his mind. He opens his mouth to backtrack, to apologize and beg for forgiveness. But he's stopped by Kenma's low drawl before anything comes out.

“Like... _‘beautiful',_ or whatever.”

_Oh?_

Kuroo remembers _that._ Remembers the adorable reaction that went along with it - he's sure it'll be branded on his brain.

“So,” Kenma slides his gaze to Kuroo. “Did you mean it?”

It’s not like they never compliment one another. On occasion, both of them tended to veil it as an obvious fact: Kenma usually following it up with dismissal and Kuroo tending to preen like a prized hen. Kuroo's always just assumed Kenma knew – not to mention the fact that he thought Kenma would rather die than have Kuroo fawning over them.

Perhaps he was wrong.

If he makes fun on Kenma now, they'll clam up and never speak of it again. But if he can get his answer right, the two of them might have just worked something out.

He opts to be honest, affirming his reply with a nod: “Sure did.”

Kenma hums. Shifting a little as they look away.

Kuroo doesn't entirely know what to make of that reaction, so he remains silent. Pretending to watch the cartoon while he runs through the previous conversation in silence. Minutes pass by before Kenma speaks up again, their fingers flexing in Kuroo's grasp slightly.

“I didn’t hate it.”

_Oh._

The admission is basically an affirmation in Kenma-speak, and Kuroo can’t stop a wide grin from splitting across his face.

“Yeah?” He leans in close, pecking Kenma's reddened cheek. “Guess I’ll have to say it more often, then.”


End file.
